


Bound

by AC_DeanC



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Being Dean, F/M, Gadreel's like a lost puppy, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Romance, Soulmate AU of sorts, Wings, all the feels, i'm awful at tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 13:34:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13976193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AC_DeanC/pseuds/AC_DeanC
Summary: Soulmate (noun): A person ideally suited as a close friend or romantic partner.In all of your years spent being a hunter, you'd dealt with some pretty weird things. Having your soul bound to an angel? Not so much.





	1. Prologue

Darkness. That was all that surrounded him. He couldn't hear, couldn't see, couldn't smell. There was nothing to hold onto, nor was there anything to ground himself with. He was a balloon floating through the air, the string he'd been tethered to- snapped. He was free. 

 

From his guilt, from his regret, from his pain, from all of the darkness inside of him. The darkness that embraced him now was unbiased, neither evil nor good. It was just as much a prison as it was a paradise.

 

Wherever he was, he was content. But, something was nagging at him, tugging on the frays of this emptiness in which he resided. It was a soul. His soul. He didn't know why he'd never noticed it, but his soul wasn't whole. And the missing piece was out there. Calling to him. He could not see it, but he imagined it was blindingly beautiful.

 

He could practically feel it. Sensed it with every part of his being. He didn't know who, how, or why, but it was out there. Waiting.

 

And suddenly, he was looking up at the clear blue sky of Earth. A voice he knew all to well, entered his mind.

 

_She's waiting for you. Don't make her wait too long._


	2. Heavy

For the last few days, you'd been feeling out of sorts, confused. Like you were stumbling around in the dark trying to latch onto something. It was like you were trying to gain your bearings, despite knowing exactly where you were.

 

And on the third day of feeling lost, you felt a whirlwind of emotion. Pain, anger, sadness, grief. But the one that stood out most to you was guilt. The emotion was deeply rooted within you, like it was all that ever made up your existence.

 

This, you found beyond confusing. Sure, there were things you had done in your life that made you feel guilty. But to this extent? It was unheard of. You started to worry when you found yourself crying to the youngest Winchester, begging for forgiveness. He consoled you and said there was nothing to worry about, and that he was here for you.

 

But what unsettled you the most during that entire ordeal was that you didn't know  _why_ you felt guilt this intensely. It was almost as if this guilt didn't belong to you.

 

And so there you sat in the library of the bunker, digging through the men of letters books. You had known the Winchesters for a very long time, joining Dean and John on hunts back when Sam was at Stanford. And through everything, you'd stuck around, always one phone call away if they ever needed you.

 

But a demon had bested you on a hunt, and with a broken leg you'd called the Winchesters requesting back up. They said you could stay with them at the bunker until you were back on your feet. That had been almost four years ago.

 

"Hey Y/N, what are you reading?" Sam asked as he entered the library with his laptop, spotting you in one of the chairs. You shrugged.

 

"I'm just trying to find some information on something." You stated. He sat in the seat across from you.

 

"What are you looking for? Maybe I can help." He offered. You smiled. Help sounded great. So far, all of your searching had led you to dead ends.

 

"Do you think people have the ability to feel emotions that aren't theirs?" Sam scrunched up his face in confusion.

 

"What do you mean?" You made hand gestures in the air, trying to not explain it as best as you could without sounding crazy.

 

"I mean, say you're feeling happy, like you're on top of the world, but for some reason, in the back of your mind you feel angry, even though there is nothing for you to be angry at."  You explained, trying to word it in a way that he would understand.

 

"So you mean feeling emotions that aren't yours?" He asked, seeming to understand. You nodded.

 

"Yeah, and for the life of me I can't figure out what it means." Sam ran a hand through his hair, trying to come up with an answer. Suddenly, his eyes lit up.

 

"What about an empath?" He asked. You tilted your head to the side.

 

"What do you mean?" You asked.

 

"Well, empaths generally are able to feel emotions of anyone around them. So, for instance, you could be happy but feel someone else's anger." You nodded mulling it over in your head.

 

Were you an empath? Could that whirlwind of emotions you felt be one of the Winchesters? You narrowed your eyes at Sam, focusing on him. Maybe you could sense what emotion he felt. When you focused on  that emotion in the back of your mind, you felt more guilt.

 

"Sam." He looked up at you.

 

"Yeah Y/N?" He responded.

 

"Do you feel guilty?" He seemed taken aback by the question, but then seemed to think it over. He shrugged.

 

"Sometimes. But no, not at the moment. Why?" Your shoulders slumped. Okay, so maybe you weren't an empath. But what else could it have been?

 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the door to the bunker slamming shut. The pair of you looked up, eyes landing on Castiel, the angel in the trench coat you'd become familiar with. He had a serious look on his face as he descended the stairs, more serious than you had grown accustomed to. By the furrowing of his brow, you could tell something was wrong.

 

"Cas? What's wrong?" Dean asked upon entering the library and spotting his feathered-friend as he came to stand before the three of you.

 

"He's back." Fear shot through you. Those words never meant anything good. Who was back? Why was it that every nightmare cheated death and always came crawling back? Was it the yellow-eyed demon? The leviathans? Eve? Raphael? Metatron? Lucifer?

 

"Who's back?" Dean asked. Castiel furrowed his eyes in confusion.

 

"I don't know how, but he's alive." He said, as if still trying to understand. You threw your hands up, the anticipation killing you.

 

"Just spit it out already Cas!" You exclaimed. He met your E/C eyes with his own.

 

"Gadreel, he's alive." You slumped back into your chair, breathing a sigh of relief.

 

"And for a minute I was actually concerned," you mutter, closing your eyes and trying to calm your fast beating heart. You didn't see it, but you could feel all of them staring at you.

 

"Why are you relieved? This is Gadreel we're talking about!" Sam exclaimed. You shrugged.

 

"Sorry, but Gadreel doesn't exactly reach the top of my 'biggest threats' list."

 

"Y/N, this isn't a joke!" Dean said angrily. You cracked an eye open.

 

"Do tell me Dean, what is the danger of Gadreel being alive?" You questioned. He balled his fists at his side.

 

"Do you not remember him lying to us and jacking Sam's body? Killing all of those innocent people? Killing  _Kevin_?" You flinched at the last question.

 

Of course you knew Gadreel had killed Kevin. He'd done it right in front of you. You still had nightmares. And it had hurt-it still did-but you didn't blame him. You understood why he'd done it.

 

"He was only following orders! Doing what he thought was right for his people! He realized he was wrong! Sound like someone you know?" You asked, turning your eyes towards Cas. He fidgeted under your gaze.

 

"Y/N, I understand what you are saying, and I do know he is a changed man. But that was the Gadreel I knew before he sacrificed himself. I have to agree with Sam and Dean on this one. There's no telling what he is capable of now." You rolled your eyes.

 

"So what should we do about him?" Sam asked, no longer considering the threat of Gadreel a discussion.

 

"I say we hunt him down and teach him a lesson." Dean offered, leaning against one of the pillars.

 

"We should try to find out what information he has, and figure out why he's alive." Cas said, and Sam and Dean nodded in agreement. You huffed at how they were all blatantly ignoring you. You threw the book you were holding onto the table, standing.

 

"Fine, go hunt for him on your little mission. Just leave me out of it." And with that, you left, trying to comprehend that Gadreel was somehow alive. But you had other things to worry about.

 

That guilt you felt grew stronger and stronger with each passing moment. It felt like something heavy was pushing down on your shoulders, and you thought it would send you to your knees at any given moment. You needed to figure this out before it got any heavier.


	3. Phantom

It had been a week since you'd discovered Gadreel was still alive, and Team Free Will was still out searching for him. It bugged you to no end. Couldn't they just leave the poor angel be? He'd suffered long enough.

 

But you understood where they were all coming from. Sam had lost his own free will, having been tricked into giving consent. Gadreel had killed Kevin with his own hands. That had to take a toll on someone's mind.

 

And Dean, he'd trusted him. Believed the stories he'd been fed, even kicked Cas out of the bunker to ensure his brother's safety. He'd done it all for Sam, who's body had gone to hell in a handbasket after the trials. He'd tricked Sam into letting Gadreel in. You couldn't imagine how much he'd blamed himself once he found out the truth.

 

It was late at night when you first felt it. You were in the kitchen getting a drink when suddenly you felt like someone had knocked the wind out of you. You gasped for air, the glass in your hand falling and shattering against the linoleum. After you had collected yourself, you tried to process what had happened.

 

Seeing the mess you'd created, you went to grab a broom. You suddenly felt a blinding pain in the right side of your temple, and reeled to the side. It felt like someone had punched you. There was a sharp crack, and you fell back, feeling blood pour from your nose. You groaned in pain, grasping at your nose. It felt broken.

 

You tried to stand, but quickly toppled when white-hot pain enveloped your face. It felt as if someone was throwing punch after punch, and you curled yourself into a ball, willing the pain to stop. Then, as quickly as it had started, it ended, and you were left with confusion and the painful throbbing of your face.

 

You picked yourself up off the ground and made your way to the bathroom, slightly disoriented. When you flicked on the light, you gasped. Your left eye was swelling up, and your nose was definitely broken. Your lip was split, and a bruise was already forming on your right cheek, a small gash above your right eye. You looked like you'd been in a fight.

 

You were beyond confused, your mind reeling. What the hell had just happened? It wasn't a ghost-this bunker was warded and sealed to the high heavens-and it certainly wasn't any tangible force. So then what had it been? You cleaned yourself up, going back into the kitchen and sweeping up the shards of glass.

 

You could still feel guilt in the back of your mind, and despite the pain, you felt at peace, like you deserved what was coming your way. And that scared you. Your phone buzzed, and you quickly pulled it from your pocket.

 

"Hello?" You answered.

 

"We found Gadreel." Dean's gravelly voice came over the speaker. Something nestled into the pit of your stomach. Part of you had hoped they wouldn't find him. Not hearing a response, the eldest Winchester continued on.

 

"Son of a bitch put up a fight, but we got him. We're headed back to the bunker now, should be there by tomorrow afternoon." You placed the phone between your ear and your shoulder.

 

"Okay, I'll be here. Drive safe." You ended the call. Grabbing an ice-pack from the freezer, you headed to bed, body sore as you tried to understand what the hell had just happened, and how you were going to explain this to the boys.

 

* * *

 

_You sighed, pushing away another book, all of its contents completely useless. You'd searched through almost every book in the library, and still you'd come up with nothing. How were you going to find a way to reverse Metatron's spell?_

 

_"Hey, Y/N, don't worry. I'm sure we'll find an answer." You looked up into Kevin's warm brown eyes, and couldn't help but sigh heavily. For a moment, you thought you'd heard a thud, but figured you were imagining things. After all, when was the last time you had had sleep? You understood why Kevin always seemed on edge._

 

_"You said you yourself can't decipher that tablet. So forgive me if I'm a little skeptical about our abilities to reverse this." You said. Kevin sighed, standing and stretching. You'd been at this for days, and nothing was coming of it. You were running out of time._

 

_But something wasn't right. You didn't know why, but you could sense it. Like something bad was going to happen. You had an overwhelming sense of Déjà vu as you watched Kevin jot down notes onto a piece of paper on the table. Why did you have the feeling you'd done this before?_

 

_Sam entered the room, looking very on edge. It sent alarm bells off in your brain, and for the life of you, you couldn't figure out why._

 

_"Hey, Sam," Kevin said, going over to one of the bookshelves for another book. He paused, turning back to Sam. Something was wrong. Something was screaming at you to stop this. But you didn't know what it wanted you to stop._

 

_"Hey, do you notice anything a little bit off about Dean lately? Between you and me, I'm a little bit worried about him." Kevin said. Sam had a completely different demeanor then you were used to. He stood taller, carried himself differently. It was almost as if Sam wasn't Sam._

 

_"Don't worry about Dean. Dean will be fine." Sam's voice almost sounded robotic in the tone he spoke. Was something wrong?_

 

_"Is everything alright Sam?" You asked, eyebrows creased in worry. For a moment, his eyes cut towards you, and you saw something flit through his eyes. But in the next moment it was gone. Suddenly, Sam latched out and grabbed Kevin's head. Startled, you stood abruptly. It happened in a matter of seconds. Kevin's eyes lit up a bright white, and Dean came running, shouting loudly._

 

_Sam released Kevin, and his body hit the floor, eyes burnt out to the sockets. Dean was pushed back against an invisible force to the nearest pillar by Sam. But you didn't care. You had to get to Kevin. You held him in your arms, feeling numb. Kevin. Kevin was gone._

 

_No more of his quirky gestures, adorable smiles, no more seeing the reassuring look in his eyes when you were stressed or worried. He'd been like a younger brother to you, and you'd promised you'd protect him. You'd promised you'd protect him._

 

_"No! What did you do!" You shouted. You looked up, teary-eyed at the stranger who stood before you, an unreadable expression on his face._

 

_"What did you do?!"_

 

You screamed, and bolted upright in bed, panting heavily. Sweat made tendrils of your hair cling to your forehead, and you let out a deep breath, realizing where you were. You laid back in bed, trying to calm your breathing. You'd had that nightmare a million times over, it was always the same. Kevin's burned out sockets would be forever ingrained into your memory. You shuddered.

 

Since sleep was no longer an option, you grabbed a set of clothes and headed into the bathroom to take a shower. The hot water against your bare skin helped to calm your nerves. You heard the door to the bunker slam shut, and you figured the boys were back. There was the sound of a scuffle, and you suddenly lurched forward, catching yourself on the wall in front of you to keep yourself from falling as a sharp pain exploded from your shoulder. Why did this keep happening?

 

You exited the shower, and winced, catching a glance of the darkening bruises on your face in the mirror. You toweled off, and headed out into the library. You plopped yourself into a seat, waiting for the Winchesters to get back from throwing Gadreel into the dungeon. You heard the familiar thud of boots, and waited for the reaction you knew was bound to happen eventually.

 

"Y/N what the hell happened?" The eldest Winchester exclaimed as he took in the state of your face. This in turn caused the other two to rush into the room, and make the same exclamation.

 

"Y/N, who did this?" Sam asked softly, but you could see in his eyes that he was angry at the prospect of someone hurting you. You paused. How were you going to explain this? You couldn't just come out and say you didn't know. They'd think you were crazy. And if you told them the bruises just suddenly appeared, they wouldn't believe you. Lying seemed like the only way to keep them from worrying.

 

"Some guy jumped me as I was leaving a bar. I know it looks bad, but don't worry. The other guy looks worse." Dean's face grew dark as he balled his fists at his sides.

 

"When I find that son of a bitch I'll rip his lungs out!" You held up your hand.

 

"Dean, really. It's fine." It so wasn't fine. Castiel came over to you, placing two fingers to your forehead. For a moment, you panicked, thinking he was going to read your mind and you'd be caught in a lie. But instead you felt a wave of calm wash over you as all of your damaged skin healed over. You sighed.

 

"Thanks Cas," you said, nodding at the blue-eyed angel. He nodded back. Seeing the worried looks they were all giving you, you decided it was time to change the subject.

 

"So, now we've got Gadreel locked up in the dungeon. What exactly are we trying to accomplish again?" You asked, still ticked off at the fact they had even brought him here. Dean said he hadn't come easy, and at the thought you felt a pang in your chest. You could only imagine what state he was in. Both physically and mentally. He'd been a prisoner for most of eternity, and he'd been free, only to become a prisoner once more.

 

"We need to find out how he managed to escape Heaven. There was no way he could've survived that without outside help." The angel said, that serious expression he always seemed to carry prominent on his face. Outside help? Who would've been willing to...it came to you then.

 

"Metatron." You stated. It made sense. Being the scribe of God, he had to know all of the ins and outs of heaven. Every strength, every weakness, every loophole. If anyone could have helped Gadreel, it would have been him. After all, he was the only angel that would've helped.

 

"And until we can find out how he escaped death, we have to keep him here," Sam said. You shot him an apologetic look. You knew it must have been hard to see Gadreel, after thinking he was dead and no longer a threat.

 

"Well, I'm gonna go lie down for a while, we've been on the road all day," Sam said, sighing heavily as he exited the library. Dean watched him leave, a conflicted look crossing his face. He turned back to the angel.

 

"Cas, let's find out what this bastard knows."


	4. Encounter

While Sam had gone to rest, and the other two went to interrogate Gadreel, you hit the books. These weird pains you'd been feeling were getting out of hand. And why did they leave marks? You couldn't wrap your mind around it. You weren't an Empath, this went way beyond feeling emotions.

 

Speaking of, that guilt you had felt in the back of your mind was still there, but it wasn't as strong. It was almost like you were getting retribution, and were at peace. It was odd.

 

There had to be a reason why you were feeling this. But it seemed as though the Men of Letters had never encountered anything like this. And that couldn't possibly spell out anything good for you.

 

Figuring you'd done enough research for one day, you put the book aside, standing and heading into the kitchen. You made yourself a quick sandwich, and figuring Sam would be done resting any minute, made one for him as well. You grabbed two beers from the fridge and made your way to the table, placing the plates down.

 

Soon after you'd started eating, Sam lumbered in, looking a little worse for wear. He spotted you and smiled, and you pushed the beer in his direction, nodding to the seat across from you. He collapsed into the chair, cracking open the beer and taking a long swig.

 

"Thanks," he said. You nudged the plate with the other sandwich in his direction.

 

"Figured you'd be hungry." He nodded in appreciation, and began eating. You studied him, and took note of the visible bags under his eyes.

 

"You sleep alright?" You asked, even though you knew the answer. He shrugged.

 

"As well as I could, considering." You could only imagine what seeing Gadreel brought up for him. You often wondered what he actually remembered about his possession. You knew for most of  it he wasn't aware, he'd have blackouts when Gadreel took over. But after Gadreel was gone, did he remember? You'd never had the courage to ask. You finished the sandwich on your plate, and looked down at the table.

 

"I still have nightmares about Kevin." You said softly. If there was anything you could still hold against Gadreel, it was his death. You understood why he'd done it, but it didn't mean it didn't hurt. You could feel Sam's eyes on you, but you didn't want to look up.

 

"Y/N..." he started. You stood, turning away and going to head to the fridge for another beer.

 

"Sam, I'm fine. It's nothing I can't handle."

 

Suddenly, a blinding pain hit you, just underneath your rib cage, it felt like someone had run you through. You wailed, and keeled over. This felt like way more than a punch. It felt like someone was burning you up from the inside.

 

"Y/N!" Sam shouted. You felt his arms around you, and when he went to help you to your feet, you cried out in pain, your knees giving out beneath you. It felt as if someone was squeezing your insides. Sam caught you, panic overtaking his face.

 

A look of horror crossed his face as he examined you, and you coughed, sputtering up blood. The room was spinning, and your vision began to go in and out of focus. Despite the searing pain you were feeling, you felt eerily calm.

 

"Dean!" He shouted, pressing a hand over where the pain had sprung from. Dean came in running, gun out and ready to shoot. But then he saw you, and quickly put it away, face paling as he made his way over.

 

"What the hell happened?!" He exclaimed, kneeling in front of Sam as he held you, green eyes filled with panic. Blood. There was a lot of blood. Too much blood. Why was there so much?

 

You realized quickly it was your own. Why were you bleeding? Any other pain you'd ever felt only left bruises. What was happening? You could feel yourself begin to slip in and out of consciousness, and you fought to stay awake. Sleep wasn't a good option.

 

"Cas! Get your ass in here now!" Dean hollered, and you felt his calloused hand on your head.

 

"Don't worry Y/N, everything's gonna be alright." He said, his voice becoming more muffled. The world spun before darkness overtook you.

 

"Cas!" Dean shouted out, and the angel came running in, hands bloodied. His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him. Y/N was on the ground, covered in blood. Sam was holding her tightly, and Dean was kneeling beside them. There was so much blood pooling around them, and it all came from Y/N. It was then the angel saw the large hole in Y/N's abdomen; the source of all the blood.

 

"Y/N? Y/N!" Sam shouted, trying to keep her awake. Y/N's eyes were closed, and she wasn't responding. The angel stood frozen for a moment, trying to process what was happening.

 

"Well don't just stand there! Help her!" Dean exclaimed. Castiel quickly surged forward and placed two fingers to Y/N's temple. Within moments, the blood was gone and she was healed. The angel checked her vitals.

 

"She's breathing, she's just unconscious. She should be okay." Castiel said. Sam picked Y/N up and put her in her bedroom, hoping she'd feel better once she woke up. He walked into an angry Dean when he entered the War room.

 

"Do you want to tell me what hell just happened?" He said angrily. Sam held up his hands in defense, motioning towards the kitchen.

 

"I have no idea! One minute we're sitting in the kitchen talking, and the next thing I know she's on the floor with a hole in her stomach!" The youngest Winchester shouted back. Dean ran a hand over his face, sighing heavily.

 

"She ever mention anything to you about this?" He asked, leaning on the back of a chair. Sam shook his head.

 

"No, nothing. All I know is that Y/N's going to have a lot of explaining to do when she wakes up."

 

* * *

 

You were currently sneaking through the halls of the bunker, trying to go unnoticed. You had no doubt in your mind that the Winchesters and the angel would all want answers. And you knew you didn't have them. You could only imagine the panic it would cause when you told them it was why you had been black and blue the other night.

 

You didn't want them to worry about you. They already had enough on their plate, and you didn't want to add to that in any way, shape, or form. So you were trying to make it out without running into any of them. If you could have a few moments to yourself, it would allow you to think and come up with a possible explanation they would buy.

 

It was only when you were sneaking around you noticed how big the bunker really was. You turned down hall after hall, making sure to go the long way around to the entrance. So far, you'd been successful not getting spotted, and you figured they would be discovering your empty room right about now.

 

"Y/N?" That was Dean's voice. Crap. His voice didn't sound that far off. The loud thud of footsteps suddenly reached your ears, and you froze. The footsteps were headed in your direction. Panicking, you looked around and tossed yourself through the closest door you could find, making sure to close it quickly and quietly. You leaned your head against the door, and sighed heavily. How were you going to face them?

 

Movement could be heard behind you, and you spun around. You let out an audible gasp, paling visibly. You'd ended up in the dungeon, where Gadreel was being held, strapped down to the chair that had held so many people before him. But it wasn't him that had you frozen in place. It was what was  _behind_  him.

 

They were huge. Large, terracotta colored wings that were so large they curled against the edges of the wall. The colors faded to a pitch back at the very tips, and you could hardly breathe as you took the sight in. They were absolutely beautiful. But they were damaged. Large portions of the wings were missing, and upon closer inspection, you realized some of the feathers were burnt.

 

You assumed the damage had taken place during the fall. But there were other marks. Scars, cuts so deep into the bone you knew it wasn't all from Metatron's spell. It made you tear up. These wings showed pain, hardships, and a great deal of suffering. You'd have thought the wings would appear fragile, but they were anything but.

 

You snapped out of your reverie as you heard footsteps thunder past the door.

 

"Y/N? Dammit!" Dean exclaimed, and you let out a breath as his footsteps disappeared down the hall. You brought your attention to the angel, and you were startled to discover his aquamarine orbs were boring into your own E/C ones. Something was ebbing in the back of your mind, a thrum that quietly pulsed just behind your eyelids. It was hard to describe, but it filled the air as the two of you continued to stare, neither one breaking eye contact.

 

"Gadreel." You breathed, looking down and finally managing to break eye contact. It was then you noticed how bad a shape he was in. His left eye was swelling up, and his nose was definitely broken. His lip was split, and an ugly bruise had formed on his right cheek, a small gash above his right eye. Dean had done a number on him.

 

"Y/N." Something about the way he said your name sent tingles down your spine and straight into the pit of your stomach. You sighed, annoyed that Dean had roughed him up so badly. But then you noticed the large hole in his side. It wasn't bleeding any longer, but that didn't make it look any better. Your stomach churned, realizing Castiel had probably used it as an interrogation method.

 

You looked around, spotting a rag, and a bottle of holy water. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. No way you were leaving this room and risking running into one of the Winchesters. You grabbed the two items, and slowly walked over to Gadreel. He eyed you somewhat cautiously, but mostly his turquoise eyes held curiosity. You poured the holy water onto the rag, and sheepishly held it up to him.

 

"Sorry, it's all I have right now." His brows furrowed in confusion, and it very much reminded you of Castiel. You stepped over the devil's trap, practically being able to hear the scolding Dean would give you if he knew what you were doing.

 

You tentatively reached forward, rag in hand, dabbing at the cuts on Gadreel's face. He seemed taken aback, but you continued nonetheless. You furrowed your eyebrows as you cleaned up the blood from the gash above his eye. He didn't deserve this. To be tied up, trapped, treated like an animal. 

 

You tried hard not to stare at his wings. Why could you see them? Maybe you were going crazy. After all that had been happening, it wouldn't have surprised you. It was then you noticed a strange sigil carved into his chest, a maze of triangles that looked in no way capable of healing anymore than into the crude scar it had. A lump formed in your throat as you realized it was the sigil he'd used to sacrifice himself.

 

"I'm sorry about Cas and Dean. I told them to leave you be, but they didn't listen," You said once you finished cleaning his wounds. Gadreel shook his head.

 

"No, it is my fault. I brought this all upon myself. I was the one who joined Metatron, led many of my brothers and sisters to their deaths." He stated. You got the feeling he wished to say more, but didn't. You sighed.

 

"Gadreel, you were only doing what you thought was best for Heaven. No one can blame you for wanting to help your family." He looked at you, seemingly at a loss for words. You could hear the brothers calling your name off somewhere in the bunker, and you decided it was time for you to face the music. 

 

You paused, hand on the doorknob as you were about to leave. Something about leaving Gadreel by himself, all alone, didn't sit well with you. That thrumming pulse was back, and it sent pulses of energy all along your body, just underneath the skin. Something was telling you to stay with him, but you pushed the feeling aside, opening the door and leaving. 

 

Almost immediately after turning the corner, you collided into what felt like a wall. Though this particular wall was named Dean. You grinned sheepishly up at him, very aware of the annoyed frown that had taken residence on his face.

 

"Went for a walk?" You offered pathetically. He gripped your forearm and dragged you down the hall. You rolled your eyes as he led you into the war room.

 

"I'm perfectly capable of walking myself, Dean." He released you once you were there, and you saw Castiel and Sam had taken seats at the table. Dean sat down, motioning to the table.

 

"Take a seat Y/N. You've got a lot of explaining to do." He said firmly. You realized he wasn't really angry; he was just concerned. You sighed, plopping yourself into a seat beside Castiel, whom you felt burning a hole into the side of your face.

 

"It all started when you all left to go hunt Gadreel down..."


	5. Research

"What the hell Y/N?!" Dean was beyond pissed once you'd told them what had happened.

 

"Dean." Sam scolded, turning back to you and offering one of his comforting smiles. At least he hadn't snapped at you. He was still trying to comfort you. And Castiel seemed to just be staring intensely at you, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, like he was trying to think of an explanation. If he had one that would be great. Because you sure as hell didn't.

 

"What do you want me to say Dean? I didn't think it was that big a deal." You said in exasperation. You saw his jaw clench tightly, green eyes blazing with anger. He clenched his fists, and you knew the anger wasn't directed at you. No, he was more angry at himself that he didn't know how to help. Sam responded before Dean could get any angrier.

 

"Y/N, this is a big deal. Bruises and cuts don't just appear on their own. Maybe it's a ghost of one of the Men of Letters?" He offered. Bless his soul. Always one to try and diffuse the situation, looking for solutions.

 

"No, I don't sense any ghosts, or anything of the sort. This bunker is too warded for anything of that nature to come in." Castiel said, eyes still boring into you. Dean placed his fist down onto the War room table not so gently.

 

"Well that's just great! Something almost killed Y/N and we don't even have an explanation!" Dean exclaimed. Sam sighed, standing and heading into the library.

 

"Then I guess there's only one thing left to do," he said, disappearing behind one of the columns.

 

"And what's that?" You called after him, quirking an eyebrow. He reappeared with multiple books in his hands, and plopped them onto one of the tables in the library.

 

"Research." He said, and you groaned.

 

* * *

 

"Alright, that's it. If I have to look at one more page my eyes are gonna fall out." You said, rubbing your eyes and slamming your forehead onto the table. You'd been at this for who knows how long, and you had to stop once the words on the pages started to blur together. Sam chuckled at your antics.

 

"It's not funny Sam, I think they're permanently damaged!" You moaned, and he just shook his head, continuing to skim through the book he was holding.

 

"At least you held out longer than Dean." Dean had chosen to call it quits a while back, grabbing himself a beer and reclining himself back at a table farther away, feet up.

 

"Hey!" He called from where he sat, looking somewhat insulted,

 

"You know research has always been more your thing, Sammy." Sam rolled his eyes.

 

"Right." He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. Clearly, he was coming up empty as well.

 

"Let's just hope Cas is having better luck than us." You said, deciding to stand and stretch out your legs. Castiel had decided to reach out to his old contacts, try to see if they had ever heard of anything like this.

 

"Alright, I'm going to grab a snack from the kitchen, anyone want anything?" A residual no came from both Winchesters, and you headed off to the kitchen. It felt nice to move about the bunker, your legs had been cramped up sitting at the table for so long. As you wandered, you got lost in thought, trying to think of an answer for what was happening to you.

 

Then you felt it. At the back of your mind, that small pulse that thrummed just underneath your skin. Loneliness. It consumed you, and you felt that there was truly no one in the world that would ever hear your plea. You were guilty, left abandoned as punishment. You'd take pain any day over this. You didn't want to be alone anymore.

 

When you came out of it, you realized you were standing in front of the door that led to the dungeon. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Had you really been so lost in thought that you had ended up here instead of the kitchen? You figured that you had, ever since that overwhelming sense of loneliness had washed over you.

 

That pulse was stronger now, and you felt as if something was beckoning you inside. Tiny prickles that made your arm feel numb ran up your spine, and you shivered at the sensation. You placed your hand on the knob, and opened the door.

 

Gadreel was lost in his own mind, trying to push away the darkening thoughts that threatened to over take him. He was strapped to the chair with Enochian sigils, and it was hard not to be reminded of Heaven's prison. He'd rotted away in there for a millennia, all the while feeling ashamed, lost, hurt, and betrayed.

 

But more than anything he'd felt lonely. For the longest time, all he knew were the concrete walls of Heaven's prison. Those four walls had become all he had ever known, and he slowly began to forget what humanity had even been like.

 

He couldn't describe the feeling that overtook him when he saw his brothers and sisters for the first time in so long. And when he fell, he had a hard time deciphering between whether or not it was a gift or a curse.

 

He was dragged out of his own thoughts by the shuffling of feet. He glanced up, and was met with Y/N's beautiful E/C orbs. Some part of him-his grace he suspected-reacted to her in a way that was unknown to him. He felt it expand outwards, reaching out to her in hopes of making contact, but it would hit the invisible wall created by the wardings, and quickly retract back within him.

 

"Hey Gadreel, how are you holding up?" Y/N asked, voice as smooth as honey that slid over him in warm waves. He tilted his head quizzically to the side. Was she concerned for his well-being? No, he shouldn't have been so presumptuous to assume. Her face scrunched up, eyes crinkling.

 

"Sorry, that was a dumb question. You're being held captive by the Winchesters. Of course you aren't alright. I know you must not be big on being locked away and all, sorry" She rambled on, walking closer to him.

 

She seemed to glance over his shoulder every now and then, and it confused him. There was nothing behind him except the concrete wall. So what was she...? He realized the only thing behind him were his wings. But she couldn't have possibly been able to see those.

 

He eyed her warily. Out of everyone he'd encountered in the bunker so far, even more than his own brethren, Y/N had been the only one who seemed...not hostile. And for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why. Even after all the things he'd done...he took a deep breath before looking back up at her.

 

"I'm sorry." He regretted the words as soon as they had left his mouth. Why had he said that? He should be seeking retribution for his sins, his crimes against Heaven and humanity, not forgiveness. Forgiveness. Was that even a word allowed in his vocabulary?

 

Y/N seemed taken aback, and he could see the wheels churning in her mind as she tried to decipher his words. He glanced away.

 

"About Kevin." He said quietly, and felt the pit of his stomach twist as he saw her tense. There were other things he regretted, things he needed to apologize for. Lying to Dean and tricking the eldest Winchester into letting him possess Sam, siding with Metatron, killing all of those innocents, betraying his family. But during his time possessing Sam, he saw how close Y/N had been to the young prophet. It pained a foreign part of him to know he had hurt her so deeply.

 

She let out a shaky breath, and for a moment, he didn't think she would respond. But then she met his gaze, and he saw something in her eyes he couldn't place.

 

"I forgive you," you said, voice unwavering. To say he looked stunned was an understatement. But you'd had so long to think it over in your mind, process every action and every word he had spoken, and you understood. Gadreel, hated by all of his brothers and sisters, locked away to never be heard from again. He was a man who sought redemption.

 

So when Metatron had sold him his plan to save Heaven, Gadreel saw him as the hope of being able to once again walk amongst his family. And that had been a dream that he would have paid any cost for. Even innocent lives. He did what he thought was best for his family, and didn't think twice about mowing down people that had seemingly been in the way.

 

You'd thought about it long and hard, and you tried to put yourself in his shoes. What if it had been Dean, or Sam, Castiel, Kevin, or anyone else you considered your family that had been lost? You knew you would have done whatever it took to bring them back, no matter the consequences. So you understood Gadreel, and didn't blame him.

 

"...why?" It pained you to hear the tone in his voice. That spark of hope he held, having it broken time and time again, not daring to give into holding onto it. But he wanted to, and that was what broke your heart.

 

"I understand what you were trying to do, and I don't blame you." Gadreel looked like he wanted to believe your words, but couldn't. You realized he didn't want to. You narrowed your eyes at him.

 

"Gadreel, do you think you deserve this?" He didn't meet your eyes, and simply nodded.

 

"After all I've done-" You cut him off abruptly.

 

"What you did was make a mistake! There isn't anyone in this world, human, monster, demon, or angel, that could say they've never made one. And the way you were punished for yours wasn't right. You only wanted what was best for humanity, what was best for Heaven! No one can blame you for that!" You ranted, breathing heavily as you fought to keep your emotions in check. Your eyes widened as Gadreel met your gaze, and you realized you had said too much.

 

"Uh-sorry, I didn't mean-what I meant was-" You quickly spun on your heel and left, the dungeon door slamming resoundingly shut behind you. You felt heat rise to your cheeks, and you were beside yourself. Why did you have to go and open your big mouth? It was hard enough the fallen angel had landed in the Winchester's dungeon, but now you were lecturing him? You groaned as you made your way back into the library.

 

"You get lost on the way?" Dean chuckled, raising an eyebrow as he took in your current state. You stuck your tongue out at him, plopping into a chair besides Sam. Bless his heart, he was the only one trying to find an answer.

 

The sudden slamming of the front door alerted you to another presence in the bunker. The three of you turned to the trench-coat-clad angel, taking in the grim expression on his face. His cerulean orbs bored into yours as he walked down the staircase and made his way over to you, mouth pressed in a thin line.

 

"What is it, Cas?" You asked, not liking the sinking feeling you were getting in your gut. There was a look in his eyes, and you knew immediately his search for answers had been successful.

 

"Y/N, I need you to tell me exactly when you started to feel these strange pains," he said, the tone in his voice putting you on edge.

 

"Uh, let's see...I think it was a few weeks back when you were still searching for Gadreel." You replied honestly. You saw no reason to lie. If Castiel had an idea of what the hell was going on, you'd gladly tell him anything he wanted to know. The angel's eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head to the side.

 

"But what exactly were you doing in that moment?" He asked urgently. You thought long and hard, trying to remember exactly what had happened.

 

"Oh! I think I went to get something from the kitchen when it happened. Then right after Dean called saying you had found Gadreel." You said. A look of understanding crossed Castiel's face, and then it was replaced by rage. It surprised you because it was a look you had never really seen from the angel.

 

"Cas, what-?" You started.

 

"I have to go," he said, abruptly scurrying from the room. You looked towards the Winchesters in confusion, each of them wearing the same mask of confusion on their faces.

 

"What the hell was that all about?" Dean asked before you could. You scoffed, a little baffled.

 

"I have no idea."

 

Gadreel heard him before he saw him, the familiar flutter of his wings as he moved alerting him of his presence.

 

"Hello Castiel," He said cordially. He had no reason to be hostile towards his brother. If anything, he welcomed the pain that Castiel was sure to inflict. It did not offer much, but it give him the ability to feel like he was paying for his sins. In an instant, he felt the familiar press of an angel blade to his throat, raging blue eyes boring into his.

 

"What did you do to Y/N?" Castiel asked, voice low and dangerous. At the question, he felt something knot in the pit of the stomach. Did something happen to her? He couldn't help the worry that gnawed away at him.

 

"Is she alright?" Gadreel asked, concern leaking into his voice. The blade was pressed deeper into his throat, and he could feel the blade bite into his skin.

 

"Don't act as if you don't know! You cast some sort of spell on her, used her as leverage, and now you can inflict pain on her as you please. Break the spell or I'll break you." Castiel growled, tightening his grip on the blade. Gadreel's mind was racing. What was his brother on about? Y/N was in pain? And he thought him the cause? He tried to shake his head, but the blade pressing into his throat prevented him from doing so.

 

"I assure you I have done no such thing to Y/N. I would never hurt her." Castiel searched his face, trying to detect any deception. When he couldn't find any, he pulled the blade back slightly, looking beyond confused.

 

"Then what-?" Castiel cut himself off, not even sure what to ask. Gadreel was just as confused. Knowing that Y/N was in pain put him on edge, and he felt his feathers bristle at the thought of someone hurting her. He shouldn't have been so bothered, but maybe it was because over his time around the young hunter, he'd grown fond...no, that wasn't quite right.

 

There was something...familiar about Y/N. Like he'd known her in another place, another time. Though he couldn't imagine how that was entirely possible. He'd been locked away in Heaven's prison for too long. But that was not the only thing about her. It wasn't just his physical vessel that reacted to her. It was him, grace and all. His grace reacted in a way that was unknown to him. It was almost as if...a thought suddenly struck him. His  _wings_.

 

It was then that Castiel actually took the time to look at Gadreel.  _Really_ look at him. His left eye was swollen, and his nose was bent at an awkward angle, definitely broken. His lip was split, and a bruise had turned an ugly yellow on his right cheek, a small gash above his right eye. Despite coming with them willingly upon his capture, Dean had still felt the need to take his anger out on him.

 

There was a large hole just below his rib cage, that had slowly started to heal from where Castiel had grabbed Gadreel's grace, trying to pry answers from him. He wondered why these wounds seemed so familiar...and then it hit him, eyes going wide. Y/N had the exact same wounds.

 

"Y/N can see my wings." Gadreel said, realization dawning on him. Castiel was reeling with this new information. He brought his gaze back to Gadreel.

 

"You don't think...?" He asked.

 

"What other explanation is there?" Gadreel was right. It made sense. The phantom pains, the feeling of emotions that weren't hers, being able to see an angel's wings. Castiel adjusted his grip on his angel blade.

 

"There's only one way to find out," he said, and plunged the angel blade into Gadreel's leg. He screamed. Only, it was high-pitched, and sounded nothing like him. And it had come from the other end of the bunker. Gadreel hadn't even flinched. Castiel's eyes widened. and for a moment, neither of the two angels said anything.

 

"Y/N!" Came Dean's voice from somewhere in the bunker. Gadreel gave a pained expression as the reality of it sunk in. Y/N was his soulmate. There was no denying that now.

 

When he was in pain, she was in pain. When he felt guilty, she felt guilty. And when he was sad...he could only imagine the weight of his emotions to have been placed on her shoulders. And it was all his fault. A part of his grace had attached itself to her soul however long ago, back before creation, and her soul had done the same. They were connected, in every possible way.

 

"Cas! Get your ass in here!" There was Dean's shout again.

 

"Go to her," he pleaded with Castiel, voice straining. An angel blade in the thigh might have stung for an angel, and he could only imagine what it was like for a human. Castiel nodded, quickly turning on his heel and exiting the room.


End file.
